Sentimental Fools
by BettyBackInTheDay
Summary: As Clint recovers from his latest round of injuries, he listens to his favorite playlist. This is what happens when the inspiration for that playlist shares her own special mix of songs. (There is no substance of any kind whatsoever here. This is fluff that demanded to be written.)


A/N: Let's start with an apology. I'm really sorry. I wish I could write something other than mindless fluff lately. But, I can't. So, here it is. If only I'd gotten it finished in time for Valentine's Day - I think that would've made it less offensively cheesy. And as if the story alone wasn't saccharine enough, there are also the accompanying playlists. If you want to hear what songs effected our soft-hearted assassins, check out 8tracks dot com: 'Clint is a Sentimental Fool' (classic rock ballads) and 'Natasha's Tangled Web' (eclectic classic rock and modern mix) by BettyBackInTheDay. I do hope you enjoy this mess.

Sentimental Fools

"Not your finest moment, Barton.

As Clint Barton slowly opened his eyes and became aware of his surroundings, it was his partner's voice that greeted him.

"Don't even start with me," she continued. Her voice was strong, but it held a softer edge than he was accustomed to hearing. And speaking of hearing, at least his aids were in so he must not be in too bad of shape.

Following the sound of her voice, he gingerly turned his head to the left. There were the familiar green eyes of Natasha Romanoff staring level with his own. The eyes were bright, but her mouth formed a scowl. "You're in the med bay at the Tower, not a hospital. And you're going to stay here until you can move without grimacing."

Not one to show weakness or give in to pain, Clint began to sit up. In less than a second his entire body was throbbing, the room was spinning, and a grimace stretched across his face. "Shit," he hissed.

"More like deep shit," Natasha responded. "The team is going to want to know why you thought you could take on that Hydra outpost without back up."

He looked up at her sheepishly. He was probably not going to be able to sweet talk his way out of this. It was a dumb move, but they didn't keep him around for his fore thought. "I nailed it, didn't I?" he asked. As the seconds dragged on he began to question the outcome. "Didn't I?"

Natasha pushed back from the bed with a sigh. "Yes," she mumbled.

He allowed himself a momentary smug smile.

"But in the course of taking on a heavily-armed contingent on your own, you sustained a concussion, a dislocated left shoulder, a patchwork of second degree burns down your back, a deeply bruised hip, sprained left ankle, and too many contusions to count. You're a mess, Barton," she admonished. "You better suck it up and thank Stark for flying you out of the line of fire and getting Dr. Cho to work her magic on you." She bent over him and allowed her hair to brush past his nose. "Thanks to her you won't have any scars. That handsome face of yours won't lose any of its charm," she purred.

Maybe it was the meds, but Clint felt as if there was something else she wanted to say. The moment was quickly disrupted by the entrance of Tony Stark.

The billionaire breezed up to the side of the bed opposite of Natasha and joined her in leaning over Clint. "Well, Cupid, we can fault your methods, but not the results. Nice going," praised Tony while offering a gentle pat on the shoulder. Clint involuntary grimaced as even the slightest touch sent shards of agony through his upper body. "Sorry, buddy. But, if you're gonna play the lone wolf, you're gonna suffer the consequences." Tony grinned and leaned in closer to Clint's face to make sure he was understood. "Let's count this as your last dumb decision, hmmm?"

That earned a roll of the eyes from both Natasha and Clint. "I don't make promises I can't keep, Stark," stated Clint.

Tony stood straight and resumed his usual air of indifference. "Well, as much I like the tough love approach, I do want you up and at 'em as quickly as possible." With a melodramatic sigh, Stark continued, "It pains me to admit this, but we do need you."

"Shhhh! Stark, I thought we agreed to never mention that out loud," hissed Natasha with a reassuring smile aimed at Clint.

"Yeah, well, you know I suck at keeping secrets," Stark waved her off. "Anyway, JARVIS is available to respond to anything you need, Barton. Just ask him and he'll make sure you're tended to asap. Got it?"

Although he tried not to show it, the gratitude shone in Clint's eyes. "Thanks. I'll be up and around in no time," was all he could muster without his voice betraying him.

Tony narrowed his gaze and pointed a finger at Natasha. "That goes for you, too, Red. And if you ever decide to leave his side, JARVIS will make sure to alert you to any changes in his condition," Tony added. A quick nod to Natasha, a double tap to the mattress and Tony Stark breezed back out of the room.

Clint turned to look at Natasha. "How long have I have been out? How long have you been here?" he questioned.

Natasha sat back in the chair and waved off the question. "Pffft, only six, maybe seven hours now."

"Time flies when you're having fun, Agent Romanoff. It's been just over 12 hours," informed Dr. Cho as she entered the room.

Clint gave her a disapproving look. "You've been here this whole time, Nat?"

She returned the look in kind. "Yes. You know damn well this is what we do for each other."

"Well… yes, but…" Clint stammered but had no argument. He would've done the same for her, no matter how minor her injuries. "But, look, Dr. Cho is here now. I'm awake and on the road to recovery," he offered both women a goofy grin. "Go get some rest so you can come back fresh and yell at me some more about the poor decisions I make."

Dr. Cho offered him a smile as she shook her head in exasperation. The archer was as annoying as he was endearing. She didn't know how his partner had managed to not fall under his charms. Natasha Romanoff was one tough customer.

Natasha gave him a hint of a smile and turned to collect her things. Dr. Cho adjusted some equipment and made sure Clint was resting comfortably. Both women began walking out of the room together until Natasha turned around and met Clint's gaze. "Follow doctor's orders. I'll be back soon."

Did she just wink? Nah, Clint thought to himself. Must be the meds. But, what if…

That was the question Clint wrestled with for a long time now. What if he could admit the way he really felt about her? What if she felt the same? Would it work out? What if it didn't? What if it did?

What if it did. Clint inhaled deeply, felt a smile form on his face, and was ready for sleep to overtake him. Hopefully, the nightmares would hold off and his rare-but-wonderful Tasha dreams would visit him while he healed.

"JARVIS?" he called into the air.

"Yes, Agent Barton," came the AI's prompt reply.

"Drop a needle for me, would ya?"

"Of course, sir. Which playlist would you like to hear?"

"Oh, the usual."

"Coming right up, sir. Shall I stream it into the room or directly into your hearing aids?"

Clint had a moment of fear when he thought about Natasha hearing his preferred playlist. Maybe someday he'd let her hear it, but not yet. Not today. Today he was even more thankful for Tony's genius idea of linking JARVIS directly to his hearing aids. "Oh, I don't need Agent Romanoff stumbling upon this. Let's keep 'Sentimental Fool' between you and me, JARVIS. Pipe it right into the aids. Thanks."

"Rest comfortably, Agent Barton," came the smooth voice directly in Clint's ears. Then the first notes began to play. Clint relaxed and allowed his thoughts to drift to his partner, his best friend, the one person he cared about more than anyone or anything in the world, the one thing he lived for: Natasha Romanoff.

The same Natasha Romanoff who was walking back into the room to ask what take-out food he'd like to have waiting for him. The same Natasha Romanoff who, minutes later, entered her own apartment and, uncharacteristically, let her curiosity get the better of her.

"JARVIS?"

"If you're asking about Agent Barton's condition, Agent Romanoff, it is unchanged in the five minutes you've been gone," came the reply. If she didn't know better, she might have said it sounded a bit snarky.

"Thanks, but that's not what I'm asking. I'd like some music," she replied while working very hard to maintain a casual tone to her voice.

"Certainly. You last listened to Tchaikovsky two days ago. Would you like to continue?"

"Actually, no. I'd like to listen to a playlist titled 'Sentimental Fool' please."

There was a long moment of silence before JARVIS acknowledged her request. "I'm not finding a playlist with that title in your collection."

"I don't have a playlist with that title. I'd like to listen to Agent Barton's please."

There was another measurable silence. "Agent Romanoff…" began JARVIS and then was interrupted.

"JARVIS, am I correct that both Agent Barton and I have granted each other access to one another's files held by you?" she demanded.

"Yes," came the instant reply.

"Is this item password protected?" she continued.

"No."

"It's music, JARVIS. If Barton and I know every little thing there is to know about each other, then sharing music is not a matter of national security. Right?" she reasoned. Though, if she were honest, she was spelling out the argument more for herself than the AI. It was just music. No big deal. But if it was so insignificant, why was she invading what little privacy Clint had to hear it? Call it a good old-fashioned hunch.

"Very well, Agent Romanoff. But I'd like you to know that I'm not comfortable with this arrangement," responded JARVIS.

"Noted. Thank you, JARVIS," she said.

As the opening notes began to play throughout her apartment, she couldn't help but smile. Typical Clint. The music continued as she showered, dressed, and finally sat on the edge of her bed wondering what it all meant. Was this what she'd expected? Was it more than she'd been hoping for? Maybe they didn't know everything there was to know about each other after all.

She picked up her phone and scrolled to her music icon. She quickly entered the requested password. She would be sure to chastise Clint for his lack of password protection. This whole thing could've remained swept under the rug if he'd just made that playlist private. But, here they were…

She plugged her phone into the data port. "JARVIS?"

"Yes, Agent Romanoff?"

"Please upload this playlist to Agent Barton's file. The next time he asks for music, please offer to play this for him." After a brief pause she added, "Seems fair, right?"

"It does indeed. He's actually contemplating his next selection at this very moment. I'll suggest it to him," he stated.

She wasn't sure how to respond, so she didn't.

If she interpreted what she'd just heard correctly, she about to force a conversation that, truth be told, was probably years over due. If she was even a little bit off, things were about to become very, very awkward.

She grabbed a jacket and left Avengers Tower. She didn't really need to ask Clint what he wanted to eat. She already knew what he'd be craving, so she walked the few blocks to his favorite burger joint. Not one to stress eat, she added a cheeseburger and large order of fries for herself, nonetheless.

While she waited for her food, she wondered why she was feeling more like a hormonal teenager instead of the accomplished spy and infamous assassin she actually was. Not for the first time, Loki's antagonizing voice haunted her thoughts. "Is this love, Agent Romanoff?" Ugh. Damn that trickster. How dare he be the one to put it into words!

As she approached the Tower, her phone buzzed the familiar Morse code of vibrations that spelled out one name. The only name that made her heart skip a beat. The only name that could make her drop everything to traipse around the world and let it hang in balance while she brought back the only thing that mattered to her: Barton.

She read his text on the way up to the medical floor. Clint: So, are we making mix tapes for each other now? Really want to talk to you. Could also really go for an In'N'Out Burger. Talking is more important tho.

She hesitated only a moment outside of his door. The next few minutes would most likely determine the future of their relationship. She knew they would remain partners in the eyes of the Avengers. She only hoped – really hoped – that they could be partners in every sense of the word. Having finally acknowledged that to herself, she couldn't wait to admit that to Clint. So, as she stepped into his room, she decided she wouldn't wait.

As she walked through the door, they were just as in synch as they always were.

"Clint –"

"Nat –"

"I love you."

"I love you. Oh, and you brought In'N'Out Burger."

"Wait. What?"

"Huh?"

They stared at each other as Natasha made her way over to his bed. She gingerly placed the take-out bag next to him.

He spoke slowly, but confidently. "I said I love you. And I'd very much like to make the first move to kiss you, but –" He gestured widely with his arms as he glanced down at his immobile form. "So, if you would do the honors?"

She offered him the most magnificent smile and bent down toward his face. With the back of her hand she gently smoothed the creases in his forehead and cheeks and came to rest under his chin. Before allowing their lips to meet, she whispered, "I'm not sorry for hacking into your playlist."

He smiled. "You're slowing down in your old age, Tash. We could've been doing this years ago if you'd invaded my privacy sooner."

"You're not feeling, oh, I don't know… violated?"

"Actually, I'm feeling pretty lucky, all things considered. And very, very impatient. Will you please kiss me now?" he pleaded.

She moved in the last fraction of an inch and kissed him.


End file.
